It was just after evensong, as formal goodbyes were being offered to visitors, that Sister Michael heard the squealing of a pig and learned that the animal was being slaughtered just off to the side of the worshippers for the pig roast that would follow.

Recognition of specific images is indeed frustrated but instead of imagining storms or faces, I'm squealing again at detail, the subtle fuzz of Xerox on Bristol board compared to the clarity of graphite on Mylar, and how they overlap to make a form and its shadow one.

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